A Night with the Enemy and Other Strange Tales
by The Dirty Goe
Summary: A cornucopia of lust, featuring some strange shagging and bizarre circumstances. Myriad pairings, numerous couplings, and a very happy Argus Filch. Ch. 2 is now up!
1. DracoArgus

A/N: Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this. Every chapter will focus on different couples, so stay tuned!

When Blonde Meets Grease 3

Argus Filch crouched over his small pile of trophies. He was in the dungeons, shining them relentlessly with a grimace on his rugged face. The headmaster (he was the master of head, of course, and Filch knew) had ordered the caretaker to shine them vigorously. And he had obliged. Quite sexily.

He was running a wet cloth over Bejarious Doodledickel's trophy for special services to the school (circa 1901) when he felt a slight pressure against his back.

At first, the caretaker believed it to be Mrs. Norris, but as he reached behind him in inquiry, his hands came in contact with not the furry legs of his pussy, but with the strong, supple legs of a teenage boy.

Significantly aroused by the contact, Filch meets the boy's eyes. The cocky blond bastard smirked knowingly at the caretaker, whom he fully knew pined for him. So hot. Such fire in his eyes! Like hell flames!

Draco leaned forward, thrusting his hips slightly so that he was inclined toward the caretaker. He extended a slender, pale finger towards his head. He toyed with a few of Argus's stray, scraggly hairs. They felt gritty like sand paper. It was dirty, but it excited Draco. Mind-numbing chills ran up the caretaker's spine. So sensual. MMMMM!

Argus wasn't the only one being affected by this showcase of lust, for Draco Malfoy's pants were beginning to feel a tad tight around the crotchal region.

How, you may ask, did Malfoy of all people acquire such indecent urges towards the humble caretaker? Well, it all started with a girl with the face of a pug; Pansy Parkinson.

He and Pansy had had numerous sexual encounters, and many of which took place in the very trophy room they were standing in now. Malfoy didn't save his juices for only one woman- he liked to spread his seed. Which was why he'd agreed to have intercourse with an annoying fourth year who'd been lusting after him since she got off the train in year one. Yep, Astoria Greengrass.

The more women, the better!

In fact, Draco had been having a little _too _much sex, if you know what I mean. (Honestly, _I_ don't even know what I mean.) Something peculiar had happened to him. You see, when wizards partake in too much vag-action, they develop a queer disorder. These oversexed magical men are SEXED SILLY! (Dun-DUN-Dun…)

In this state of sexed silliness, the wizard loses all grasp of who he is attracted to. So, in other words, they do Filch.

That's how Filch gets action.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Malfoy and Filch, together forever.

THE END. (OR IS IT!!?!?!??!)

* * *

Five years had passed, and Draco lived a comfortable life in the Scottish countryside with Argus. He was a rugged beauty, and never ceased to amaze Draco, who was more attracted to him than ever.

They had married a month after their first shag. They would grow to bear twenty children. How? We do not know. But it was marvelous.

Draco and Argus were blissful.

The End. Pt .2


	2. HagridDumbledore

A/N: In order for us to continue writing these magnificent stories and to improve upon them, WE NEED REVIEWS. We yearn for feedback! So please, please, please take the time to write us a comment. Even if it is a negative comment.

"Mommy, where do wizards come from?"

_When an old man falls for an oafish half-giant._

* * * *

We are all familiar with the fact that Rubeus Hagrid highly respected Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, but how far did that respect go? Yes, we all have heard our favorite gamekeeper say, "Great man, Dumbledore, great man," in his gruff, husky voice.

But where would such admiration lead him?

Well, it led him to the headmaster's office (who Filch knew really was the master of head, but that's another chapter, and meant for another day.)

Hagrid clunked up the spiral staircase, pushed through the office door, and took in the sight of a glowing, handsome Albus.

"Yeh wanted to see me, headmaster?" he grumbled, averting his eyes from Albus's inhuman beauty. He had to look away for he knew that if he stared too long, he'd surely start drooling in arousal.

Albus Dumbledore looked up from his desk, where he had been crocheting a knit bikini for Fawkes the phoenix.

"Ah, Hagrid, please come in," pleaded Dumbledore, a lusty twinkle in his mischievous blue eyes.

Hagrid bounded forward, eyeing the knit bikini with longing. It really was a charming little garment.

"You see, Hagrid, yesterday was Fawkes's burning day, and now he is newly born again. He looks quite spiffy if I do say so myself. It was my plan to create a little outfit for him, to further accentuate his new and glorious figure. I've crocheted this bikini here, but I think the polka dots might be a bit much. I'd really like for someone to… model it for me."

Hagrid's breathing hitched in his throat.

What could the headmaster be implying?!

"I was, of course," began Dumbledore silkily, "going to ask Harry… but it appears that he is off gallivanting with young Mr. Weasley. A shame, you'd agree."

Hagrid grunted in response, very aware of the fact that his pants had tightened around his nether regions.

"I could easily enlarge the bikini with an engorgement charm…" purred Dumbledore throatily, lifting his right eyebrow up suggestively.

Hagrid was feeling very bold, empowered by his raging erection. "Maybe, I could…er…"

Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair. "Yes?"

"I could…. Model it for yeh."

After all, it was the least Hagrid could do to help the man who had given him a job after he'd been expelled. Plus, Hagrid really, really wanted to take his clothes off in his presence.

Dumbledore rose from his chair, whipping out his wand. He whispered the incantation and the bikini swelled to thirty times its original size. Perfect for Hagrid.

The gamekeeper's blood was boiling in anticipation.

"Take off your clothes," commanded Dumbledore, with a ferocity Hagrid had never heard enter the headmaster's tone. Scrumptious! "I won't look," added Dumbledore quietly, "much."

Hagrid chuckled, very hot and bothered. He was sweating freely. He reached into his trench coat pocket and dabbed at his forehead with a soiled handkerchief. It was embroidered with the words, "I Love Old Men."

Dumbledore read this, and _his _pants started to feel a bit tight.

As Hagrid removed his coat and allowed it to drop to the floor around his ankles, the headmaster reached into his own pocket. Dumbledore pulled out a clean handkerchief emblazoned with the words, "I Love Half-Giants."

Hagrid, upon reading the wording, took off his clothes at a much brisker pace. Nothing could stop his raging erection now.

Hagrid was completely nude at this time, and was feeling very vulnerable. He had heard rumors about Dumbledore liking guys (Grindelwald, anyone?), but he'd never expected that he, Hagrid would have been the object of the headmaster's affections.

Dumbledore walked forward and offered him the polka dot bikini. Hagrid donned the bathing suit slowly, giving the old wizard quite a show.

Dumbledore's 'wand' was going haywire.

Now the suit was on. Hagrid and Dumbledore locked eyes, a fire burning between them.

"You look … ravishing," remarked the headmaster with a smirk.

A blush, mostly hidden by the wild tangles of his beard, crept up into Hagrid's cheeks. Him? Ravishing? Well, I never!

Dumbledore sauntered forward, sashaying his hips (one of which had been replace six years previous) and leaned in close to Hagrid, who was clad in the bikini.

The headmaster whispered one hurried word. "Wait."

He ran into his closet, shuffled through some clothes heaps, and unearthed a pair of stiletto heels. He put them on quickly, and stood once more.

"There. Now I can see you properly."

Hagrid was very excited by this turn of events, and it showed. In his bikini bottoms, if you know what I mean.

Dumbledore walked close. He embraced Hagrid, using his scruffy black beard as a makeshift pillow.

So erotic.

THE END.

* * *

A/N: PLEASE REVIEW!!!!! Next chapter the couple is Ron/Snape, so we'll see how that'll turn out!

Hit the button and say something! I beg of you! In the meantime, you have ch. 3 to look forward to!


	3. SnapeRon

The Ginger & the Potions Master

"But _sir_," said Ron, "I have quidditch practice!"

"You should have thought of that before you mouthed off to me, Mr. Weasley. Before you started looking so …. Succulent."

Ron looked away awkwardly. "Er…"

"I couldn't very well let you leave my classroom with the other students, could I? I'd much rather you stay after a bit so that we can… chat."

Professor Snape twirled a greasy hair tendril in his finger like a school girl daydreaming about her crush. A sexy smile was displayed across his surly mouth.

"Ummmm…" murmured Ron, feeling very tongue-tied and confused. Why was his potions master coming on to him? He was, wasn't he? Ron thought it very forward… and strangely exhilarating. "Um, professor, I'm kind of already involved with Lavender Brown."

"Don't fret, Mr. Weasley," Snape purred, "I won't tell her."

Goosebumps erupted all over Ron's shoulders, making his skin prickle playfully. His ears turned beet red, a tell-tale sign that he was nervous. And aroused. Very much aroused.

The boner in his pants was also a clear indicator that Ronald Weasley was aroused, but we won't go into too much detail about that… ;)

And so the evening passed with much raucous love-making and loud, passionate moaning. The dungeons were alight with the brilliance of young love- or homoerotica. Your call. The Slytherins all leaned against the Potion Master's office door, wondering what all the racket was about.

Their curiosity was soon relieved because after one final shriek echoed through the dungeons, the office door swung open, revealing a disheveled, shirtless Ron Weasley. He was grinning like a madman, though his arse was a bit sore, he'd admit.

Lavender had never made him feel like that!

Ron's grin turned into a grimace, however, when he saw the gang of Slytherins waiting outside the door. He stopped dead, mouth open in horror.

The Slytherins all looked at one another in shock. Draco Malfoy was among them.

"What the hell, Weasley!" Draco shouted.

"You have no right to be jealous, Draco!" cried Ron, nearly in tears. "You're with Argus now! You can't blame me for wanting to be with someone too!"

Draco was crying now, too. "But Ron, you had a girlfriend! What about _Lavender!!!????!?!?!"_

"Well… She just… she just couldn't meet my needs the way…. _he _could." Ron gulped at the mention of Snape. His adam's apple glided up and down his throat. _Snape._

"You two belong together!" wailed Draco, tears streaming down his pretty face. "I hope you're happy! I bid you adieu!"

"Bonsoir," muttered Ron bitterly. "Love you, too."


	4. HarryFredGeorge

The hour was late as Fred and George Weasley trudged down the castle steps, rehearsing what they'd say to their crush to end all crushes, Harry James Potter.

"Well, we could just be like, 'Harry, we thought you'd make more use of this than we would' and he wouldn't think much of it," suggested Fred.

"I dunno, I think Harry would be suspicious as to why we'd give him something so valuable when we still have two years left at this school…"

Fred sighed, admitting defeat. "But I'd really like to give Harry something, just to show him how much he means to me, you know?"

"He means just as much to me," consoled George, patting his brother on the shoulder affectionately. "I'm just afraid he'll question our motives, is all."

"Yes, brother," Fred sighed. "I just want to tell him that his emerald eyes make me so hot I can't think straight, but he'll only look at me like I'm a nutter!"

"With good reason!" exclaimed George, and the boys laughed.

After their laughter had subsided, they consulted the Marauder's Map, looking for the little black dot that represented the object of their every fantasy, Harry.

"He's coming this way," hissed George. Fred peered at the map.

"But I don't see him!" he said, looking around at the corridor that, according to the map, Harry Potter should be in.

"Do you think…" mused George, "that he has the cloak on?"

"Do you reckon?" asked Fred, intrigued.

"I reckon so, I do, brother," said George. "What do you say we ambush him… On the count of three."

"One…." The boys were poised for attack. "Two…" They estimated the location of Harry. "Three!" They sprung into action, leaping out onto a solid object in the middle of the hall. They heard a grunt of pain and surprise, and seconds later, Harry appeared. He'd yanked the cloak off and stood, separating himself from the troublesome twins.

"What the bloody hell are you playing at?" Harry demanded, scoffing.

George and Fred shrugged guiltily. The contact they'd just had with Harry made them a bit more excited than they'd like to admit. "We've a present for you."

"Yeah?" asked Harry in a way that meant, "This had better be good!"

"Yep," affirmed George.

"Get on with it, then!" insisted Harry. "I've got to go to Hogsmeade!"

"You can't go that way, mate," sing-songed George, secretly wishing the word 'mate' didn't just mean 'friend.'

Fred and George each grabbed hold of Harry's shoulders and hauled him off toward the stairs.

"Now, Harry," Fred purred, "time to join the big boys."

"Can I…" Harry whimpered. "…Can I invite Ron?"

There was an awkward pause, and then Fred smiled. "Of course!"

It was time to join the big boys, indeed. And so the gayest night in Hogwarts history went on.


End file.
